


I Will Try For Your Love

by FallingLikeThis



Series: Hallway Boyfriends [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Boys Kissing, Flirting, Fluff, It all starts with a prank, It's an American high school but the boys are all transfer students, M/M, Pining, idk man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-12 10:05:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7930540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis/pseuds/FallingLikeThis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this tumblr post:<br/>I asked a freshman for a high five today as I walked past him in the hallway and after he gave me one I laced our fingers together and said “we’re dating now love u bae” and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a boy look so fearful and confused before in my life</p><p>Two years later and I still haven’t had a single actual conversation with this kid but any time he sees me in the hallway he goes “hey bae”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Try For Your Love

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [1D_Hiatus_Prompt_Meme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/1D_Hiatus_Prompt_Meme) collection. 



> **Prompt:** [tumblr link](http://nalayzrz.tumblr.com/post/135177759618/nalayzrz-i-asked-a-freshman-for-a-high-five)

**~~Year Ten~~ Ninth Grade**

Harry Styles is clutching his notebooks to his chest when he walks through the doors of Terra Mesa High School for the first time. His family just moved to California from a small village in England a few weeks ago and Harry has no idea what to expect from an American school. He’s a little confused already because he would be in year ten in England but here he’s called a ninth grader or, alternately, a freshman. It’s strange and he feels really weird not being in his school uniform. Apparently, uniforms aren’t a thing here.

He pulls a little scrap of paper from his pocket and looks at it, biting his lip as he searches for a locker bearing the same number that’s written on it. _365_ … 365… He’s not even close he doesn’t think, the numbers on these lockers are in the 100’s. He stuffs the paper back in his pocket and grips his notebooks tightly as he turns a corner, steps slow and unsure, as he checks more lockers. The 200’s are here. He must be getting closer then.

“Heads up!” A voice calls out, just before a basketball collides with Harry’s head.

“Sorry about that,” a boy laughs as he retrieves the ball, he continues bouncing it down the hallway, his friends chuckling behind him.

The hallways are so loud and unruly here. Harry hunches in on himself as he rubs his sore head with one hand, feeling incredibly small in the stream of students flowing around him.

He turns another corner, searching a bit more desperately for his locker. If he can find it, maybe he can use it to hide behind. Just for a minute, just so he can get his bearings. He sighs with relief when it seems he’s found the 300’s hallway. His eyes stay glued to the lockers as he seeks his out and finally he finds it, slumping against it as he pulls out his scrap of paper again to read the combination off.

~

“Holy fuck,” Louis says, stopping in the middle of the hallway and causing a mini pile-up as his friends barrel into him, and a few other students into them.

“What’s up, Tommo?” Danny asks curiously, glancing around the hallway to try and figure out what Louis’ staring at.

“I didn’t know freshman could get so fucking adorable in America,” he answers, staring at the curly-haired boy trying to get his locker open.

“Aww,” Niall teases, ruffling Louis’ hair. “Does Tommo have a crush on the pretty, little freshman?”

“Fuck off. Do I look like a cradle snatcher to you?” Louis knocks his hand away roughly. He hates when Niall does that. The only reason he keeps him around is his accent as it’s the closest Louis’ going to get to home in these parts. Well, technically, Liam Payne is as close as Louis can get to home but he tends to walk around with a stick up his arse (literally, the way Louis tells it) so Louis tries to steer clear of him.

Louis should have expected it when his friends answer with a chorus of ‘yeah’s as they laugh and take the piss out of him. He rolls his eyes, barely holding back a smile as he informs them, “I hate you all”.

“Hey,” Danny nudges him with his elbow. “You should do the thing.”

“What? No way,” Louis declines. He’s been putting off doing the thing for as long as he’s been going to Terra Mesa.

The things is, they’ve all done the thing. Niall had even done the thing to _Louis_ when he’d transferred here from Doncaster last year. Louis remembers feeling flustered and a little embarrassed when it had happened, wondering if everyone could somehow see all of his secrets in the way he stood or the cut of his clothes. The last thing he wants is to make someone else feel like that even if it’s just for a few seconds, least of all adorable, little freshmen who don’t have any idea what’s coming their way.

“Come on,” Troy butts in, “We’ve all done it, Lou. And he’s perfect.”

“Yeah,” Christian adds. “What are you waiting for? Just do it.”

Louis sighs, shaking his head at himself because he has never been able to say no to his friends when they start banding together against him.

“Fine, fine,” He raises his hands in surrender. “I’ll do it.”

Sometimes he really wishes he didn’t care so much what other people thought of him.

~

Harry’s just managed to get the combination to work, pulling the door and dropping his notebooks inside for a minute, when he hears a voice, loud and boisterous aimed his way.

“High five to start the year off right, Curly!” A boy hollers at him with a smile, holding his hand up for said high five.

Harry raises his hand mutely. It’s automatic. You don’t hear ‘high five!’ and not put out your hand to be slapped.

Harry feels an instant sense of relief when the boy’s hand hits his like he was expecting to be left hanging and it feels a little bit like acceptance when the boy follows through. But then there’s this confusing moment when the boy is twisting his hand until his fingers tangle with Harry’s and then they’re holding hands.

“We’re dating now,” the boy informs Harry with a wink. “Love you, bae.”

And that’s how it starts.

It starts with panic filling Harry’s chest because the boy holding his hand is _older_ and _gorgeous_ and Harry hasn’t been letting himself think about how he might like boys better than girls for very long and _can people tell?_

It starts with the boy laughing, a quiet chuckle that Harry can’t find it in himself to take offense to because it doesn’t exactly feel like he’s laughing _at_ Harry. Especially when he speaks, “Relax, kid. I’m only joking,” and his voice is warm with fondness and his accent reminds Harry of the home he’s been forced to leave behind. Also, he’s still holding Harry’s hand. Maybe because Harry’s got a death grip on it but still.

The boy gasps a little with a wince, probably because of Harry’s grip, but doesn’t try to pull his hand away. It’s kind of comforting, enough that Harry is able to get out of his own head for a second and realize that he should probably let go now.

“Oops,” He says, dropping the boy’s hand and ducking his head bashfully.

“Hi,” the boy replies, watching Harry like he’s worried he’s broken him, “Y’alright, curly?”

“Harry,” Harry utters, barely managing to look the boy in the eye because that was kind of embarrassing. “My name’s Harry.”

“Harry,” the boy corrects with a grin, pretty blue eyes sparkling. “I’m Louis. Sorry about the hand holding, it’s was sort of a dare.”

“It’s alright,” Harry shrugs, head still down because he doesn’t know what to make of a pretty, older boy being dared to _flirt_ with him as a joke. “Sorry I crushed your fingers.”

Louis laughs, radiant and carefree, and Harry looks up at him at that. Louis’ got a nice laugh, Harry’s a bit proud for causing it. He can already feel his cheeks heating up and he ducks his head again hoping Louis won’t notice.

“No harm done,” Louis pats his shoulder a few times before leaving his hand there. Harry swears he can feel heat through his clothes at the point of contact, like Louis is setting him on fire. “Besides, I’m always happy to meet another Brit. There aren’t many of us here, where are you from exactly?”

“A village in Cheshire, Holmes Chapel?” Harry glances up to see if Louis recognizes the name of his little village.

“Ah, you’re a posh one, then,” Louis nods with a grin. “I’m from Doncaster.”

“Louis!” Both of their heads turn when Louis’ name is called from further down the hall. A group of boys stands there, huddled together, waiting for Louis to return to them. “We haven’t got all day,” A tall, blonde one informs as he waves Louis over.

“Oh, sorry. I’ve got to go,” Louis says, looking back at Harry and Harry thinks he might see genuine disappointment on Louis’ face.

“Okay,” Harry accepts his apology, though he’d really like Louis to stay too, if he’s being honest.

“Bye, curly!” Louis grins at him as he goes with a quick little wave that Harry returns somewhat dumbly.

“Bye, Louis.”

Harry shuts his locker, leaning back against it when Louis disappears down the hall and closing his eyes. This is going to be a disaster. It’s Harry’s first day at an unfamiliar school, he’s got no friends and no clue what he’s doing. And now, he’s pretty sure he’s harboring his first crush on a boy.

~

“So, what happened? What did he say?” Christian pokes Louis in the side once they’re far enough away from the freshman that they don’t have to worry about him hearing what they say.

“Nothing, really,” Louis shrugs nonchalantly, giving nothing away. He doesn’t want to tell them how scared Harry looked if they couldn’t already tell from where they were standing. Louis already feels protective of the pretty freshman. “He was a good sport about it.”

“That’s it?” Troy sounds disappointed.

“Yeah, and he’s one of us, Niall,” Louis switches topics to get their attention off their little prank, throwing his arm around Niall’s shoulders. “He’s from England.”

“You do realize that I’m Irish, right?” Niall asks, looking at Louis doubtfully.

Louis scoffs. “Only by blood, Niall. You know you’re a Brit at heart.”

Niall laughs, shaking his head.

The conversation moves on, changing topics again but Louis just listens, still thinking about the cute, curly boy from Cheshire.

Danny nudges Louis in the side. “What are you smiling about?”

Louis’ grin widens. “I knew freshman weren’t that cute in America.”

~

It starts with Harry waving at Louis in the hallway each morning, greeting him with a hello. Winking at him playfully when they run into each other between classes. Sometimes when he’s feeling particularly cheeky, he’ll manage a “hi, _boyfriend_ ” that always makes Louis grin at him.

They don’t see each other after school, and they don’t exchange phone numbers. Louis’ always surrounded by a group of people at any given time, and he looks so busy and _popular_ that Harry doesn’t really have the confidence to ask him for anything more. What they have, it’s not much really. Harry knows that. But it’s a start.

**Tenth Grade**

“Oh my god. He’s even hotter, now.”

“Who is?” Zayn asks, looking around, trying to see who Harry’s talking about.

Zayn moved to town over the summer. He’d walked into the bakery where Harry worked and asked for an application. If he was going to be forced to live here for the next three years, he was going to have a job so that he could save up to go back to Bradford when he turned eighteen. Harry was delighted to have another Brit to bond with (he’d grown close to Liam last year) and pestered his boss to hire the boy.

“Louis Tomlinson,” Liam and Harry say in unison but their tones are a study in contrasts. Harry speaks Louis’ name in reverence, while Liam groans it.

“He’s an arse, Harry,” Liam tries, once again to convince his friend. Once again, he fails, if the look on Harry’s face as he stares across the front lawn is anything to go by.

Josh snorts. “Arrrrrse,” he sounds out, laughing at the way the word sounds coming from his mouth. He’s far too amused by the way his British friends say things differently. Zayn smacks him upside the head.

Harry ignores them all, straightening the blazer he chose to wear for the first day of school. He’s changed a lot over the summer, shot up a few inches, grown his hair out a little. Because of his growth spurt his mom had bought him a whole new wardrobe so he’s gone the preppy route this year. He’s not emulating Louis from last year in an effort to make the boy like him more, no matter what Liam says.

“See you guys later,” Harry says, walking towards the school building and, subsequently, Louis and his group of followers.

Louis’ mid-story about what he did over the summer when Harry nears the group but his eyes are drawn to Harry as he walks closer. They trail over him and Louis’ lips quirk up on one side but he doesn’t stop his story so Harry merely winks at him as he passes, walking to his locker instead of addressing the older boy like he’d planned.

He bangs his head against his locker when he reaches it, disappointed in his lack of confidence and pretends he’ll try again at lunch. Deep down, he knows he doesn’t have the guts.

~

“Way to go, Tommo!” Danny shouts from down the field as Louis scores another goal. It’s no big deal, this isn’t even a scrimmage. They’re just fooling around while they wait on their coach to get out to the field.

Louis waves off the praise from his teammate and jogs over to the bench where his water bottle sits, waiting for him. He picks it up and takes a long drink, eyes roaming the stands. His gaze stops on the curly haired boy that always flirts with him in the halls. _Harry_. Louis hasn’t forgotten him from last year when he had tricked the poor boy into holding his hand. He’s even cuter this year with his preppy new clothes and his hair long enough to fall into his eyes sometimes.

A thrill rushes down Louis’ spine at the sight of him at Louis’ practice even though he isn’t even watching. He’s sitting next to Liam Payne and that new kid, Zayn, and it looks like they might be studying. Louis is positive that if they _are_ studying, Liam is the one to blame. Who studies during a football, er, _soccer_ practice?

Coach’s whistle pulls Louis’ attention back to the field and he stops wondering about the curly boy in the stands.

Mostly.

~

“Hey, babe,” Harry winks at Louis as he passes in the hallway, their fingers brushing briefly.

Never has there been so much electricity in such a small amount of contact.

Regardless, Harry still doesn’t work up the nerve to actually have a conversation with the older boy.

Tenth grade is a total mess of stolen glances and accidentally-on-purpose meetings that never go anywhere beyond fumbled starts and silent wishes. It might be literally driving Harry crazy.

**The Last Week of Summer Before Eleventh Grade**

“Uh, Harry,” Liam speaks quietly, repeatedly glancing up over Harry’s shoulder and away again. “Those girls are back.”

“What?” Harry asks, turning his full body around to look for the group of girls that have been following him around for the past three weeks, flirting shamelessly when he looks their way. The poor sod doesn’t even recognize it for what it is. And now, they’ve shown up to the dinner where Liam and Harry were trying to have a nice, leisurely end-of-summer lunch. “Why?”

Liam rolls his eyes at Harry’s lack of subtlety and also his obliviousness to his rising level of hotness. He’s grown again, several inches, and he now towers over most of his friends. The baby fat on his cheeks has melted away and now he’s like a chiseled work of art. No one calls him cute anymore because he’s not. He’s the embodiment of lust in human form. Liam would be jealous if the boy weren’t so genuinely unaware of the effect he now has on people.

“Take a look in the mirror,” Liam grumbles playfully. Well, _half_ -playfully. The other half may be that jealousy proving itself to be a reality.

Harry turns back to Liam, face scrunched in confusion, voice tinged with curiosity. “What does that mean?”

“It _means_ ,” Liam fidgets in his seat, “objectively speaking, that you’re a handsome bloke that’s possibly grown out of his awkward phase during the summer.”

Harry studies Liam’s face, no doubt zeroing in on his pinking cheeks and the way Liam can only seem to look at him from the corners of his eyes at the moment, and a coy smirk quirks his lips.

“Are you trying to tell me that I’ve gotten hot, Liam?”

Liam simply sighs and buries his face in his hands.

“Oh my god, you totally are!” Harry exclaims when he realizes that it’s not all a big joke. “Wait. _How hot_? Hot enough for Louis to finally notice me?”

Liam groans. Because, _yes_ , Harry is that hot. He’s got his hair curling down almost to his shoulders, looking the best Liam’s ever seen it, and he’s been working out with Liam this summer. Louis is going to lose it when he sees him. He’s going to be all over Harry.

Honestly, this school year is going to be the _worst_.

**Eleventh Grade**

This year is going to be amazing, Harry thinks as he walks past Louis and his group into the school. He gives Louis his usual wink and keeps walking past despite the fact that the whole group has suddenly gone quiet, several mouths (Louis’ among them) hanging open in stupefied awe.

“Was that your curly freshman, Lou?” He hears the Irish one, Niall, ask Louis when he’s just a little ways past them.

“Yeah, I think it was,” Louis answers, voice dazed.

Harry grins to himself. He’s _Louis’ ‘_ curly freshman’. Being called Louis’ anything is fine by him but by the end of the day, he’s hoping he’ll be a lot more than that.

~

Louis hurries to the cafeteria the second the lunch bell rings. If he hurries, he can grab a pizza and be at his table before the rush hits. It sucks spending half of the lunch period in line waiting to get food.

He grabs a pizza and a bottle of water from the Tony’s quiosk and walks over to sit at the table Louis and his friends have commandeered since freshman year. The table fills up fast, with Danny, Niall, and Troy following close behind Louis. Christian is a little slower but makes his appearance about five minutes into the break. Everyone immediately begins talking over each other, complaining about teachers or gossiping about Emma Caffrey’s sudden growth spurt over the summer (she’d done a lot of expanding in the chestal region), but the table goes completely quiet when someone they weren’t expecting sits in the empty chair on Louis’ left side.

“Um, who’re you?” Danny asks though they all know the answer. Louis hasn’t really stopped talking about ‘the cute freshman from the hallway’ for the past two years. They’re all just shocked that the boy has plunked his tray down at their table out of nowhere after all this time.

“Harry,” the boy in question answers with a smug grin. “I’m Louis’ boyfriend.”

Louis, who’s been staring like he was looking into the face of an angel, raises his brows in surprise, impressed grin curving his lips. “ _Are_ you, now?”

Harry places a hand over his heart, feigning offence. “Don’t tell me you forgot about me over the summer, Lou.”

Louis’ grin grows as he leans in, voice low as he speaks for only Harry’s ears, “I’ve _never_ forgotten about you, Curly.”

Harry’s cheeks grow just the slightest shade of pink and Louis thinks it looks lovely on him. He throws an arm over Harry’s shoulder and speaks to the rest of the group. “Well, apparently, there are introductions to make. Harry, these are me best mates, Danny, Niall, Troy. And Christian’s okay, I guess.”

Christian merely gives Louis the finger and keeps eating his lunch while the others laugh.

“Guys, this is, apparently, my boyfriend, Harry,” Louis continues, giving Harry’s shoulders a squeeze.

“Hiiii,” Harry greets with a little wave, which all the other boys mock jokingly.

“Hey,” another voice says at they sit in one of the empty seats further down the table next to Danny, and everyone turns to see Zayn Malik sitting there, an unsure Liam standing behind him with a tray in his hands.

“Guys, this is Zayn and Liam, if you didn’t know,” Harry introduces his friends like he’s perfectly at ease sitting with Louis and his.

“Well, don’t just stand there all day, Lima,” Louis calls to the still standing boy. “Join us.”

Liam rolls his eyes but sits next to Zayn and Niall.

Harry smiles at Louis and Louis leans in again, mouth lingering at Harry’s ear. “So, do we count from today for our anniversary, or do we start from two years ago?” He wonders.

Harry pulls back so that he can see Louis’ face when he says, “Why don’t we count from our first kiss?”

“So, today then,” Louis smirks, then leans in and captures Harry’s mouth in a soft, slow kiss in front of everyone, only breaking away once Niall kicks him in the leg to warn him of an approaching teacher.

Harry wears a smile on his face for the rest of lunch and Louis can’t seem to stop giving him reasons to. They walk to the rest of their classes hand in hand. They wink at each other and say “bye, boyfriend” in the hallways just like they have for the past two years, but this time it’s a little different, because this time there are phone numbers exchanged and intent behind every word. There are dates planned and formals attended and first times. There are thousands of shared kisses and college (uni) plans and moving in together. There’s a proposal and a life that’s complete only because both of them are part of it.

Those are all stories for another time…

But ** _this_**.

This is how it starts.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't hate me. This is going to be a series.


End file.
